


How I Met Your Mothers

by JoeHundredaire



Category: Avengers (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3084710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoeHundredaire/pseuds/JoeHundredaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well then, girls. Since it seems like Rachel needs a refresher course in the family's history, it sounds like you're going to get your wish. And since it's only eight o'clock? I might be able to sneak in more than just the story of how I met their moms…"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How I Met Your Mothers

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** _How I Met Your Mothers_  
>  **Author:** JoeHundredaire  
>  **Rating:** R/FR18  
>  **Disclaimer:** With a myriad of writers, artists, and editors - and directors, now that we're getting decent movie and television renditions - actual rights are a nightmare when you go near a comic book universe. Suffice it to say that Marvel Entertainment LLC owns all of the property printed in their comics, along with the television and movie adaptations of said same property. Not mine, don't sue, and so forth and so on.  
>  **Summary:** "Well then, girls. Since it seems like Rachel needs a refresher course in the family's history, it sounds like you're going to get your wish. And since it's only eight o'clock? I might be able to sneak in more than just the story of how I met their moms…"  
>  **Joe's Note:** I started planning the basic idea for this story out as a response to someone on Tumblr soliciting Marvel poly fic for the holidays, and then it sorta got away from me. It was originally going to be a one-shot with Emma and her wives discussing baby names - probably for a second generation of children for the family, or maybe the third - and just be some cute fun fluff. Then I actually started thinking about how the various women might have come together, and realized that could be an even more awesome story. How to convey that information in prose form eluded me for a bit, and then I saw someone make that dumb "Hey Batman, at least we have Robin" joke comparing the MCU and DCCU and it hit me: _How I Met Your Mother_. Or rather… How I Met Your Mothers. Enjoy.  
>  **Dedications & Thanks:** To Nicholas, Alexander, Thomas, Koby, Wil, Tracy, Christopher, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on Patreon, and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

**_December 23, 2014_ **

* * *

Frowning as she tugged at the waistband of her white yoga pants, Emma Frost resigned herself to fact that she'd be spending at least two or three weeks hiding behind a telepathic disguise whenever she left her rooms. Well, more so than usual, that was. As much as she liked to joke that 'the cold never bothered her anyway', it really did and so by this time of year, she tended to wear comfortable and warm clothes while projecting the illusion that she was as scandalously underdressed as during late spring, summer, and early fall. But now… sighing, Emma poked at where her belly was starting to pooch through between the waistband of her pants and the bottom of her shirt. While by no means the type to obsess over having a flat stomach, there was a point where the extra pounds crossed from making her 'soft' and 'curvy' to 'fat'.

Damn holiday cookies. Forget Pietro, those things were her archenemy.

Making her way over to the couch, Emma rolled her eyes at the sight of all eight of her children - plus two more girls who weren't - curled up in a puddle of flesh as they watched television. And it wasn't even anything good, either; for some reason, her daughters had no appreciation for classics like _A Christmas Carol_ , _Miracle on 34th Street_ , or _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_. Hell, she would have even taken _National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation_ over whatever pop star was currently on screen butchering her way through secular and religious Christmas songs alike. Or didn't Alison have some sort of Christmas concert special they could watch, if pop music simply 'had' to be a part of their evening?

For a short time at least, Emma managed to distract herself by contemplating the girls themselves rather than their choice of entertainment. And Lord, they were but a motley group. Five identical blondes, for once not sitting in a neat little row because their half-sisters had decided that separate was not in fact equal and forced them to mingle for the evening. One redhead, whose bushy mane was shot with streaks of the same shade of blonde that Emma and the quintuplets shared, because evidently her eldest was going through a movieverse Narcissa Malfoy phase or some such. A diminutive dark-haired girl, taking advantage of the fact that Emma's eldest had inherited both her mom's looks and height to curl up on her lap rather than occupy a space on the couch. The second of her consensually created daughters, perpetually smirking as she traced the end of one Titian curl over her girlfriend's cheek, the green-haired girl reaching up to bat it every so often. Her youngest, raven-haired and green-skinned… whenever she didn't feel like being something or someone else. And she loved them all.

Well, except for Alex and James's spawn. She tolerated them for the sake of her daughters' happiness.

Finally, though, Emma couldn't take the mind-numbing drivel anymore. Thrusting her hand out, she summoned what pitifully little telekinetic talent had been unlocked in her by the best genetic manipulation that money could buy, yanking the television remote up off the coffee table and into her hand. Her actions were greeted by a chorus of groans that she silenced with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Please, you're all lucky that I'm not making you head upstairs to do homework. Do remember that I not only know exactly what each of you has been assigned over the break, but I know exactly how little of it has been finished so far…"

"Of course you do, Mother, you're the world's nosiest telepath." Blowing a raspberry, Rachel Grey-Frost waved one hand and levitated Laura Howlett up off her lap, allowing the redhead to extricate herself from the mass of humanity occupying the couch. Moving to sit on the coffee table, she thrust her free hand out and tore the remote out of Emma's grip, sending it spiraling through the air into her own hand. But rather than turn the television back on, Rachel simply returned the remote to where it had started before settling Laura back on her lap. "But seeing as how it's Christmas Adam-"

"Christmas Adam?"

"You know, it comes before Christmas Eve and is generally considered unsatisfying by all?"

"…charming. Who'd you learn that one from? Aunt Anna Marie? Aunt Katherine?"

"Uncle Tumblr. Which also taught me what to do when you're not home. Still need to find a trombone for that…" Rachel trailed off as she lapsed into thought for a few seconds before shaking her head. "Anyway, if we can't watch television and we don't want to do our homework because it's the holidays, what are we allowed to do? I mean, the only reason why we were watching television together is because you shut off the quarters' wifi and so we're stuck with each other for company."

Before Emma could respond with a suggestion - or a few, because she'd been expecting the question-slash-complaint for over an hour now - five hands rose in perfect synchronicity before five voices answered Rachel as a chorus. "What about story time, like the rest of you got around this time last year?" Heads turning simultaneously, the Five-in-One shifted their glowing blue gazes from Rachel to Emma. "Because you've done a really great job of making us feel like part of the family, but there's so much we still don't know about it. Like… how did you actually end up married to three different women, Mother? With children by all of them? We've heard plenty of jokes, but never the real story…"

Again Emma opened her mouth to speak, but again she found herself cut off by one of her daughters. "Oh God no. I'll give you the CliffsNotes some time if you're really curious, but that's not a story I need to hear again." Amaranth Maximoff-Frost shuddered violently, causing Olivia Summers and… Emma was reasonably certain it was Esme who was leaning away on Amaranth's left. Not that it really mattered what name she used for any given body; the quintuplets were called the Five-in-One for a reason. "Because I know how Mum met our mother, and I for one don't need those images getting stuffed back into my head."

Rachel scoffed and rolled her eyes at that. "Mom met our mother back in her Hellfire Club days."

"Mother seduced information about the Dard'van's plans out of Maman, and then arranged amnesty for her because of how much fun it'd been." Victoire Drew-Frost arched a brow as she looked back and forth between Rachel and Amaranth challengingly. "I'm pretty sure I have the most traumatic origin story out of the three of us."

…heh. Yeah. Emma had to admit, meeting - and romancing - Veranke had been wicked fun. As for Amaranth and Rachel's gripes, though? Totally unfounded. "Amaranth dear, you can add a one page paper on the word 'hyperbole' to your holiday homework. Because while our actual romance was a bit of a whirlwind, yes, I first met your mum during business negotiations with your girlfriend's grandfather. As for your mom, Rachel, I met her when your Grandpa Charles was giving me a tour of this very school in an attempt to convince me to buy it from him. While I may have been working at the Hellfire Club at that time, it's completely irrelevant to the story of Jean and I." Which wasn't to say that she hadn't taken advantage of the skills acquired at the Club while romancing Jean - and later Wanda and Veranke - but it wasn't like the redhead had visited her at work or anything.

Probably a good thing, given that there was supposed to be no sex in the champagne room.

None.

Letting out a soft huff, Laura elbowed Rachel in the stomach as she stared up at the redhead. "I knew something sounded off about your version of it. Not the part about Headmistress Frost being an exotic dancer in the past - that's easy to believe if you've ever met her - but I couldn't believe that Professor Xavier would…" Trailing off, Laura shook her head. "Considering where I come from, I can understand lying about your past, but why would you make up a lie like that?"

That was a very good question. As was what Charles had supposedly done in Rachel's highly embellished version of events. But rather than go poking about in either Rachel or Laura's minds, Emma chose to seat herself in the nearby armchair. "Well then, girls. Since it seems like Rachel needs a refresher course in the family's history, it sounds like you're going to get your wish. And since it's only eight o'clock? I might be able to sneak in more than just the story of how I met their mothers…"


	2. Jean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe's Note: Given that I'm a consummate Emma/Jean 'shipper, this was the first portion of the story that I outlined as soon as I shifted to the present concept, before I even finished picking who the other women involved would be. Like, I had this entire thing written in my head a week or two ago and was just waiting for the opening to be written so I could get at this.  
> Dedications & Thanks: To Nicholas, Alexander, Thomas, Koby, Wil, Tracy, Christopher, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on Patreon, and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

**_May 16, 1995_ **

* * *

"While I dare say that I could find out for myself even with your impressive mental defenses, I suppose it would be considered polite to actually ask you what you think of the facilities so far?"

Personally, Emma was of the opinion that her mental defenses might put up more of a fight than Charles Xavier thought… but there was no sense in arguing over the matter, she quickly decided. Especially since doing so might be seen as an invitation, and she was in no real hurry to find out she was wrong. "Are you fishing for compliments when it comes to your ancestors' taste in decorations, Charles, or my thoughts on the building's suitability as an academic facility?"

Xavier offered a Gallic shrug at her question, the corner of his mouth quirking upward as he folded his hands in his lap and leaned back in his wheelchair. "Either, really. Given that you'll likely find yourself living on-site the way I have these past few years, I imagine the former is more important than one would initially think."

Touché. And a fairly safe assumption as well, given that it was roughly an hour's drive in each direction between where Emma currently lived and Xavier's. To say nothing of the fact that her initial plans centered around the Berkshires being the home for her theoretical school because she wanted a change of scenery anyway. And… wait a second. Now that Emma thought about it, she'd never so much as typed out her plans for the Academy of Tomorrow; they existed solely on a pad of paper in her apartment. Her two visits to Monroe, Massachusetts had been via friends of coworkers whom she'd 'convinced' to give her rides. And yet Xavier knew of her plans and had reached out to her because of them. That answered the question of whether or not her shields could keep him out, now didn't it?

Doing her best to push that particular revelation from her mind, Emma paused and peered into another of the classrooms lining the double-loaded corridor that ran the full length of the mansion's ground floor. Spacious, modern, well-equipped, and most of them would be staffed through the turn of the millennia thanks to outstanding contracts between Xavier and his existing teachers. Almost everything a girl could ask for. 'Almost' because Emma wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the large man with blue fur who was perched on the corner of his desk as he read Shakespeare to his students, along with a few other small gripes. "The building itself is impressive; while I'll need to expand it in the future if all goes well, I can see myself maintaining the current aesthetic. Not a terribly big fan of this much polished wood all in one place, but I'll likely leave it alone save from any renovations I make to my own quarters. And the staff you've hired is… mostly satisfactory. I'd like to talk to Mister McCoy about some of his mannerisms; I'm reserving judgement until after I see how deeply his mutation runs. And the fact that Mister Summers can't seem to locate my face promises to make staff meetings tedious at best."

As Scott Summers began sputtering indignantly from his spot behind the man, Xavier raised one hand to forestall any reply as he gathered his thoughts. When he finally spoke, Emma had to admit that she was impressed by his way of handling the matter. "If you're expecting some sort of condemnation because of how confident - and therefore free - you are with your body, you'll be sorely disappointed. While I wouldn't make the same choices you have if our roles were reversed, Emma, you're free to dress yourself as you see fit, as is every other person on this planet. That being said? As a telepath, I've found that I need to regularly remind myself that we do not live in a Philip Dick short. Tempting as it may be some times, we can't punish the people around us for their thoughts alone. Unless Scott crosses the line from thought into action…"

Emma scrunched up her nose in displeasure before she peering down at herself. She wasn't even dressed all that outrageously today: a white leather bustier paired with matching shorts and a pair of knee-high boots with four inch heels. Then again, she conceded, working as a stripper - err, exotic dancer - had probably skewed her idea of what was and wasn't provocative attire. Even then… "Isn't clinging to flatscan morality a bit of a specious argument in this case, Charles? You're right: if not for my powers, I wouldn't know he was doing what he is and would be unable to get upset. On the other hand, if not for my powers, I wouldn't be here and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Do you intend then to take each and every one of your adolescent male students to task for where their hormone-fueled minds might wander?"

"How positively heteronormative of you, Charles. What about the female students who admire my figure in a sexual way?"

"Point. My question remains, though."

"Do you really want to compare your protégé to a teenage boy when it comes to maturity and self-control?"

"I'm simply saying that-"

"I'm standing right here, you know." Huffing loudly, Scott let his hands drop back onto the push handles of Xavier's wheelchair, fingers curling around them as he began pushing the man down the hallway once more. "Not all of us are telepaths with shields to keep our own thoughts in and others' thoughts out, you know. And most of the telepaths I've met are polite enough to not mention it if they pick up on any stray thoughts…"

Emma stared after them for a moment before chuckling and giving chase, her heels clicking against the hardwood floors as she struggled to catch up. "Whoever told you that I was polite lied, Mister Summers." But that would be quite enough of that, she decided; she would have plenty of time to bring Scott - and the rest of her inherited employees - up to her lofty standards if she took over the school. "Now, Charles, I believe you mentioned some… additional facilities… beneath the school that might be of interest to me?"

* * *

**_December 23, 2014_ **

* * *

"Wait, hang on, I think I found a plot hole in this story." Visibly confused, Amaranth looked from Emma around at all her sisters in hopes of support before turning back to her mother. "If you were working as a stripper, how did you afford-"

Emma didn't even wait for her daughter to finish before rolling her eyes and cutting the girl off; contrary to popular belief, there were indeed stupid questions and that was definitely one. "My college tuition, books, and other expenses? Because that's all I used the money from the Hellfire Club to pay for. Well, that and certain work-related expenses. Clothes, shoes, lingerie. Body glitter. Just because I wanted to pay my own way through college doesn't mean I'm a complete idiot. Of course I took advantage of the family's resources for certain purchases. Like this school."

Flopping back against the couch, Amaranth frowned. "Oh. Well then that makes sense. Continue."

"Ever so glad to have your permission, daughter dearest. Now, as I was saying…"

* * *

**_May 16, 1995_ **

* * *

As the trio came to a stop at what appeared to be a dead end, Charles reached up and pressed his hand against one segment of the wall in particular. There was a soft hum, a flash of light, and then a segment of wall slid out of the way to reveal an elevator. "As you very well know, my original group of students - your future employees - are the X-Men. To be honest, part of why I reached out to you after discovering your plans for the Academy of Tomorrow is that I'm hoping you will continue both halves of my legacy. They haven't been received as well as I'd hoped; perhaps with your superior grasp of public relations and marketing…" Trailing off, Xavier allowed Scott to roll his chair into the elevator and waited for Emma to slip in beside them before pushing the button for the lowest level. "A topic for when we sit down to work out fine details, perhaps? At any rate, the mansion's subbasements house a variety of things that they need but that I felt the parents of prospective students might react badly to seeing. The _Blackbird_ , our more extensive on-site medical facilities, the brig we use to contain more troublesome mutants until they can be either rehabilitated or transferred into SHIELD custody, the-"

"Those aren't what either of us is referring to, and we both know it." The elevator door slid open and Emma stepped out into a sleek metal hallway, looking around curiously. Given that each door was clearly marked in six languages - and Braille to boot - it wasn't terribly difficult for the blonde to make her own way to her destination. And she didn't even need to wait for Xavier and Scott to catch up and disable whatever security measures would normally protect it because the doors were already open. Today really was her lucky day, it seemed. Stepping through the doorway, Emma looked around in wonder as she slowly made her way down the catwalk that jutted out into the middle of the spherical metal room. "So, this is Cerebro. The vaunted mutant-detecting machine. I was expecting something… no, actually, I'm lying. This is magnificent."

A tinkling laugh brought Emma's inspection of Cerebro to an abrupt end, and it was a true testament to the magnificence of Xavier's creation that she hadn't noticed the room's other occupant before that point. Especially given that said other occupant was bent over a console of some kind, causing what looked to be an already short green skirt to ride up even further along her pale thighs. Straightening up, a young woman Emma's own age with fiery red hair and bright green eyes smiled as she looked Emma up and down slowly. "I know, right? I still can't get over it, and I've been using it for six years now." A circuit board wobbled up off the floor before zipping through the air into the woman's hand, and then she was diving back over the console to continue her work. "Oh, introductions! Because I'm civilized, I swear. I'm Jean Grey, and I'm guessing that you're my new drift partner?"

Taking Jean's entirely unsubtle inspection of her body as consent to return the favor, Emma allowed herself to focus directly on the redhead's ass, licking her lips as the woman's hips shifted from side to side as she worked. Then Jean's words penetrated, and Emma's brow furrowed in confusion. "Emma Frost. And I'm your what?"

"We've been visited by a few time travelers, and one of them had a computer full of movies and music from the future. I ended up tearing my way through most of the sci-fi over the course of a long weekend." Finishing what she was doing, Jean straightened back up and turned to face Emma before groaning and rubbing the small of her back. "So seventeen years from now… well, it won't be relevant to us anymore, but at least you'll get that joke. To make a long story short? The Professor is essentially a perfect storm when it comes to using Cerebro: a massive amount of power, and incredible control over it. Based on Cerebro's readings? You have incredible control but even when we look at just our generation, you're only the third most powerful telepath. Me, on the other hand? I'm technically more powerful than even Xavier, but when it comes to control…" Trailing off, Jean smiled sheepishly as she gestured to the pile of burnt electronics that were scattered about the floor. "Yeah. So once Cerebro is yours, you have two choices: you can use it on your own with… I'd guess about a quarter to a third of the range Xavier gets, or we can work together to use it and probably accidentally discover life on Mars or something."

Again, Emma found herself inclined to argue about her abilities… before realizing three very important things. One: having never met Jean before in her life, she had no idea how strong the redhead's powers were. For all Emma knew, Jean could chat telepathically with astronauts or something. Two: she'd discovered today that she was wrong about how her powers compared to Charles's, so clearly she wasn't the best at meaningful self-appraisal. And three: Jean was gorgeous, and getting into arguments with gorgeous women generally wasn't conducive to convincing them to date her. Spending some quality time linking minds with them, on the other hand… "So how would this work? You lighten your hair a bit, I tint mine redder, we get matching outfits and then bump fists while declaring-"

"Wonder Twin Powers Activate? Not exactly. I wouldn't say no to you buying us some matching outfits, though." Jean's eyes roamed over Emma again, and then she blushed faintly. "Or maybe coordinated outfits? I'm not sure I could fill something like that out the way you do."

Emma glanced down at her chest as she brought one hand up, running her fingers over the upper slope of her right breast. "They are magnificent, aren't they?" Grinning at the embarrassed squeak Jean emitted, Emma let her gaze drift forward a bit to the redhead's own chest, comparing their gifts. "Yours are nothing to be ashamed of, though, and you do have me beat when it comes to other ass-ets." Meeting Jean's eyes, Emma noticed that the woman's skin was rapidly approaching the same color as her hair and decided to take pity on her… at least for now. After all, if she did buy the school - which was looking like more and more of a sure thing with each passing moment - she'd have years to flirt with Jean. "I'd ask for a demonstration of your whole 'drifting' idea, but I don't think either of us should be in the other's mind at the moment."

Nodding fervently, Jean gestured back over Emma's shoulder. "Plus, aren't you supposed to be getting a tour from the Professor right now?" Emma debated that one internally for a few seconds before deciding to concede the point; technically, they'd been coming down to the second subbasement to see Cerebro and here she was. But again, as fun as flirting and teasing was, there was no need to rush things. And so Emma graced the redhead with a nod of her own before turning and walking back along the catwalk toward the open door, making sure to add a bit of extra sway to her hips along the way. After a mere four steps, though, Emma was treated to a firsthand example of Jean's lack of telepathic control. _'I would hit that like Mjölnir.'_

* * *

**_December 23, 2014_ **

* * *

"Mom actually said-"

"Mom most certainly did not." Perching on the arm of Emma's chair, Jean Grey let out a faint scoff as she swatted the side of Emma's head gently, before bringing her hand back in and gently scratching her nails against the soft blond fuzz of Emma's undercut. "Mom thought that she wanted to bang your mother like a screen door in a hurricane. Because Thor hadn't arrived on Earth at that point, and so there's no way she could have possibly made a joke involving Mjölnir."

"Oh my God, that's even worse!"

* * *

**_May 16, 1995_ **

* * *

_'I would bang that like a screen door in a hurricane.'_

Skidding to a stop, Emma threw her head back and laughed loudly before peering back over her shoulder at the mortified Jean. "Is that right?"

Before Jean could do anything more than let out a soft whimper of embarrassment, Scott decided to contribute his two cents from where he stood with Xavier in the doorway. "Oh, so Jean can have those kinds of thoughts about you - and share them with everyone - and it's perfectly acceptable?"

Emma turned her attention to Scott, making the man squirm uncomfortably as her icy blue gaze bored into his visor. "Well yes. She is a woman, after all."

"That's sexist."

"Possibly. Or being a lesbian. I mean, if you were Samantha Summers, I might find you a bit less offensive. Your brother's girlfriend, for instance, was only a hair more discreet than you and I don't feel the urge to turn her brain into tapioca." Emma pondered that for a moment before shaking her head. "Probably not, though, after what I saw while poking around inside your head." Making her way down the remainder of the catwalk, she peered down at Xavier and jerked a thumb back over her shoulder. "She's one of the teachers contracted past the end of this school year, right?"

"Yes."

"In that case, let's head back up to your office so we can discuss the future of Xavier's Academy of Tomorrow."

* * *

**_December 23, 2014_ **

* * *

"I closed on the school two weeks later, and took Jean out to dinner that night to celebrate. It took a few more dates to wear down her resistance, but finally she invited me back to her room and since I was still in my bi phase? I ate her ass like a sandwich."

Having timed the final line perfectly, Emma was treated to Laura spraying her drink across the room in a fine mist. Rachel groaned, reaching up to pat her girlfriend on the back as she glared at her mother. "The problem with you saying stuff like that is that while on one hand it could be true, it could also just be you making a reference to something on Tumblr. Door number one is really, really gross. Door number two is scary as hell because I know what's on my own Tumblr."

Emma shuddered faintly at that. While she liked to think of herself as an incredibly cool, progressive, and permissive mother - just like her wives - there was a significant difference between acknowledging and approving of healthy behaviors, and coming to face-to-face with visual evidence of them. "It's the second, dear. And speaking of your Tumblr, you really shouldn't be posting pictures like that of yourself online. The same goes for your strange obsession with preserving the marks you leave on Laura for posterity."

"…fuck."

"Oh, you definitely shouldn't post pictures of that. Have you? Because if I'm going to be getting a visit from the police, I'd like some warning…"

"Oh my God, Mother, no!"

"Just checking. I mean, when I was your age…"


	3. Wanda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe's Note: Now, obviously there is far more to the saga of Emma and Jean than what we just saw… but as the title implies, right now I'm focusing on how Emma met each of the women in her life. But that's also the beautiful thing about this story: as long as I keep a timeline handy and watch my math, I can easily introduce new chapters in between existing ones that further explore the universe. So I can easily come back after I'm done with 'Holy Shit, It's Ficmas!' and add, say, Emma and Jean's first date somewhere in the summer of '95. Or Jean and Wanda having an outing in between this chapter and the chapter that introduces Veranke. Et cetera and so forth.  
> Dedications & Thanks: To Nicholas, Alexander, William, Koby, Wil, Thomas, Tracy, Christopher, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on Patreon, and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

 

**_July 9, 1997_ **

* * *

_'Do you think he'll like my name?'_

_'Perfection? To be honest, it still seems a little arrogant to me. You should have gone with Facet.'_

_'I notice you're conveniently leaving out your original suggestion. Which was heinously racist.'_

_'It was not! White Queen. Queen as in the powerful and versatile chess piece, white because it's all you wear. You're the one who added racial overtones to the discussion.'_

_'So it would be okay for me to suggest 'Black Queen' if Ororo was thinking about reinventing herself? I mean, she wears mostly bla-'_

_'Keep it up, Emma Grace Frost, and you're sleeping on your own couch tonight.'_ Jean shot a glare down at her girlfriend, making Emma raise her hands in surrender before chuckling softly. But that chuckle slowly trailed off as Emma looked around her office and then back up at the redhead. While she'd initially liked the idea of the image they present - her seated at the headmistress's desk with Jean perched at her right hand - it only served to emphasize the significant difference in their heights. But given that she didn't know how long things would run, making Jean stand for the entire meeting would be mean… and make her seem even shorter. Hmm. Rising to her feet, Emma turned and put her hands on Jean's hips, gently guiding the taller telepath down into the space she'd previously occupied before perching on the left arm of the chair and wrapping one arm around Jean's shoulders. _'Better?'_

Emma brought her hand up so she could run her fingers through Jean's red curls as she nodded. _'For now. I'll need to come up with a permanent solution, since sitting on a phonebook during meetings isn't exactly professional. Although speaking of professionalism… I may or may not have forgotten to read that email you sent me with the who's who of the Brotherhood, and so-'_

Huffing, Jean swatted at Emma's thigh before looking up at her. _'Do you have any idea how much time I put into typing all that up for you? You had one job, Emma. One job.'_

_'No, Phil Tippett had one job and he was terrible at it. I, on the other hand, have to worry about the budget for the upcoming school year, hiring new staff, approving lesson plans, meetings in Manhattan to keep Frost International running smoothly, and half a dozen other things.'_ Offering up her best puppy dog eyes, Emma projected an image of several dozen roses in beautiful crystal vases covering Jean's desk into the redhead's mind. _'You don't want your girlfriend to look like an idiot, do you? That'd just make you look bad by association.'_

Before Jean could answer, a low rumble penetrated the office's considerable soundproofing and Emma peered back over her shoulder, watching as a burgundy SR-71 made a low pass over the back lawn before wheeling around and switching to VTOL mode. As the _Magda_ came in for a landing on the well-manicured grass, Emma switched to projecting a veritable mountain of chocolates into Jean's head, making the redhead sigh. _'Fine. But I'm only going to identify our visitors and give you basic info. If you want more - or a complete who's who of the Brotherhood - you can read my report. Now…'_ Twisting a tendril of her own power around Emma's to create a two-way link, Jean watched through Emma's eyes as a ramp descended from the underside of the jet and their visitors began disembarking. _'I'm assuming you know who the walking tank at the front of the line is. What most people don't know is that the Juggernaut is the Professor's step-brother. He's got some sort of mystical-'_

_'As in magic?'_

_'…is there another meaning for that word? Yes, magic. A magic stone keeps him young and superhumanly powerful. Or something. He's pretty much invulnerable to anything other than telepathy, which is why he wears that ugly helmet. X-Men SOP is to get the helmet off and then let me or Betsy go to town on him. Not that any of that should be necessary today, but now you know.'_ A ripple of distinctly negative emotions - specifically revulsion and apprehension - passed through Emma's mind as the blonde's eyes moved onward to the next person, and Jean shuddered faintly beneath the hand that Emma had resting atop her head. _'The man skulking along behind him is Mastermind. Very powerful illusionist. Encounters with him are pretty much decided at the speed of thought: can you subdue him before he can entrap you? Him and I have some personal history, so I don't think Magneto will be dumb enough to bring him into the school itself. Moving on… taking up a position on the opposite side of the ramp as Juggernaut? Blob, their second best physical powerhouse. Not as strong as the Juggernaut, but every bit as frustrating to try and take down without telepathy. Supposedly they're here to discuss peace, but they look awfully ready for things to go badly. Then again, I can't really say much since we've recalled every adult X-Man to the school for today. And there's Magneto, obviously. The two behind him, though, I have no idea.'_

Seeing as how Emma refused to venture into the field with the X-Men for the limited number of missions she still allowed them to conduct, it was no surprise to her that the pair in question was no more familiar to her than Mastermind or Blob. Based on what little she could see of one of them, though, she wouldn't mind changing that. Emma watched as the a familiar head of green hair crossed the lawn to where Magneto and his subordinates were waiting, embracing the man briefly before leading… him and the two unknowns back toward the school, leaving the remaining three to guard the _Magda_. Curiouser and curiouser.

With their guest of honor coming up on septuagenarian status, Emma knew that it would take longer for Lorna to reach her office than usual and took advantage of that time to make one last inspection of her domain. Enough curios to show that she had wealth and taste, but not so many as to be ostentatious. Paperwork strewn across her desk in a semi-orderly manner - as befitting a busy headmistress - without verging into actual mess territory. Leaning forward, she opened the top left drawer of her desk and withdrew a mirror. Makeup was on point, while her hair was… holding the mirror with one hand, Emma reached up to run her fingers over the shaved right side of her head. Why had she cut her hair again? Oh, right, Jean claimed it made her look 'hot as fuck'. And while the blonde generally wasn't the type to care what people thought of her appearance, she did care about looking childish or unprofessional in front of-

There was a quick knock on the doors of her office, sending Emma scrambling to hide the mirror and close the drawer even as the doors swung open to reveal four people. Lorna Dane entered the room before stepping to the side and gesturing for their guests to enter, the two unknowns trailing a half-step behind Magneto on either side. It was a decidedly different Magneto from the man she'd seen in pictures, dressed neatly in a three-piece suit instead of his more familiar armor… albeit with his trademark helmet still in place. Accompanying him were a white-haired young man wearing blue jeans and an open blue shirt over a grey tee, and a brunette in a red dress that rode up a bit with each step she took, showing off a mile of tan leg. "Papa, may I present Headmistress Frost. Headmistress Frost took over when the Professor decided to retire and move on. Papa is… well, my father."

The corner of Magneto's mouth quirked upward at that. "Quite. Pleasure to meet you, Headmistress. And it's nice to finally meet you in a situation that won't end with you throwing me around with your formidable mind, Professor Grey." Slowly making his way over to her desk, Magneto groaned softly as he lowered himself into the seat opposite the one Jean and Emma were sharing before waving his companions forward. "Since she doesn't know them and I intentionally declined to introduce them when we stepped off the plane, you'll have to forgive my daughter for not properly presenting my traveling companions. May I introduce Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. My younger children."

* * *

**_December 23, 2014_ **

* * *

"That's not right at all." Five heads turned back and forth between Emma and where Amaranth was snuggled up against Olivia's side in perfect synchronicity. "Aunt Wanda and Aunt Lorna aren't related. Otherwise that would make Amaranth and Olivia-"

Olivia let out a faint snort at that. "Incestuous? You say that like you think we'd care. I mean, I started flirting with Mara back when we still thought my mom was her mum's half-sister, and I think our first date was a month before we found out the truth."

Grimacing, the Five-in-One adopted matching looks of disgust at that revelation. "Eww. And here we thought what we did with each other was weird."

After a moment's debate, Emma decided to let that revelation slide. Not only because she really didn't want to think about it, but because she was trying to tell a story. "We actually did think that Lorna and Wanda were related until… 2010 or so. Lorna was badly injured in an accident and needed a blood transfusion, and Wanda tried to donate but found out that she wasn't a match. After things settled down, Henry ran a few tests and it was only then that we discovered Wanda and her brother were actually the children of…" Trailing off, Emma racked her brain only to come up empty-handed. "Darling, who are your parents these days?"

Wanda Maximoff glanced up from her laptop at the question, shrugged, and then went back to what she was doing. "Hell if I know; Henry just eliminated our sixth set of likely suspects. I almost want to bring them all together so we can film an episode of _Maury_. Everyone, you are not the father! Or the mother!" After allowing herself a self-deprecating laugh, Wanda glanced up again. "Oh, and your mother is right, Rachel. You really shouldn't be posting pictures like that on Tumblr." Thank you! "White lingerie isn't remotely flattering for someone with your skin tone. Remind me before you go to bed, and I'll use my powers to turn everything you've bought green for you. Maybe the color of your mom's old costume? Or I know jewel tones look amazing on Jean, so a nice emerald..?"

"…how did the former stripper end up as the responsible parent around here? Ugh." Emma shook her head before pushing onward, not wanting anyone to try and answer her rhetorical question. "As I was saying…"

* * *

**_July 9, 1997_ **

* * *

It took all of Emma's considerable willpower not to laugh at the poleaxed look on Lorna's face, the green-haired woman's eyes jumping back and forth between the back of her father's head and the teenagers accompanying him. And Emma was relatively certain they were teenagers; Wanda in particular looked to be barely out of high school. Which then raised interesting questions about Magneto's personal life - simple math would put him at pushing fifty when they were born - and then Emma realized those were questions she really didn't want answers to. Lorna either, judging by the fact that she was starting to look as green as her hair. Pushing onward for the sake of her sanity, Emma graced Wanda and Pietro with a polite nod each before turning her attention back to their father. "So exactly what brings you to the Academy of Tomorrow, Magneto? Your messages were delightfully vague on that front."

"Old age, my dear. And please, call me Erik. I gave up on that 'post-human name' nonsense long ago; why Charles continues to perpetuate it, I have no idea." So did that mean she wouldn't be referred to as Perfection? Emma… wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. While she agreed that post-human names were ridiculous, she'd spent a considerable amount of time thinking up hers in preparation for this meeting. Time that could have been spent in far better ways. Unaware of her inner turmoil, Erik reached up and removed his helmet, running a slightly shaky hand through his snow white hair. "To be perfectly blunt, Miss Frost, I am here for the same reason that Charles invited you to take control of his school and team: the spirit may be willing, but the flesh is getting old and decrepit. I'm not here to ask you to take over the Brotherhood for Mutant Advancement, not that I think you would; we're a terrible investment, after all. No, control of my organization shall pass to Wanda when I retire in the coming days. Instead, I'm here in hopes that the two of you might be able to come to some sort of accord regarding… cooperation. Collaboration. Perhaps even unification?"

That was definitely an idea that Emma could get behind, at least in theory, especially given that two out of every three missions the X-Men undertook brought them into direct conflict with the Brotherhood. Wanda, on the other hand, didn't seem terribly thrilled with her father's words. Or rather, Emma soon found out, she wasn't terribly thrilled with her father. "Pietro, did I accidentally hit Father with a hex bolt on the way over here?" The white-haired man stared at his sister oddly before shaking his head. "Strange. Because all of a sudden, the probability of him pissing me off is approaching one hundred percent." Scowling, Wanda reached down to swat Erik on the shoulder. "Shouldn't I have heard about this grand plan of yours… I don't know, some time before right now?"

"Consider it another test of your leadership skills, Wanda. Having to make decisions with little time to think and even less information to go by is something you'll have to do; at least in this case, nobody lives or dies based on the choice you make." Bringing his hand up to cover Wanda's, the corner of Erik's mouth quirked upward as he held Emma's gaze. "From what I've heard, though, you're far better suited to… building a meaningful and lasting relationship… with Miss Frost than I am."

Even as Wanda stared down at her father in confusion, Erik offered Emma a wink, leaving the blonde fighting to keep a straight face. Between her position as CEO of Frost International and her status as a known mutant, Emma spent most of her life in the public eye and her relationship with Jean was no exception to that. The only thing that got more coverage on entertainment news programs than their regular public displays of affection were their occasional dalliances with a third partner… or sometimes even a fourth. The idea of offering one's own daughter up in such a way seemed vaguely unseemly to Emma - and she had done some rather questionable things in her life - but on the other hand, was it any different from Charles encouraging Emma's interest in Jean as a way of securing their arrangement? "Is that so, Erik?"

Erik gave Wanda's hand one last past before groaning and levering himself up out of his chair. "I could be mistaken, but I somehow doubt I am." After stretching a bit - and wincing at the loud pop that resulted - he took a step to his right and gestured for Wanda to take his place. "And since we would only get in the way of things… Lorna, why don't you show your brother and I around this wonderful school you work at? I'll even do my very best to pretend that I don't already know everything that you're telling me about it."

Given that German was a rather harsh and angry-sounding language at the best of times, Emma couldn't be sure that what Lorna was muttering under her breath was uncomplimentary… but it was probably a safe bet. In the time it took Erik to cross the distance from her desk to the doorway, Pietro zipped back and forth across the office five separate times, pausing just long enough to examine one of her trinkets before moving on. Ah. So, that answered the question as to what his power was. As Lorna and Erik passed through the doorway and turned to head off down the hall, Pietro zipped off in pursuit, pausing long enough to bow to Emma and close the doors behind them.

From start to finish, Emma had been in Erik Lehnsherr's presence for less than five minutes.

"I… err… how exactly does this work?" The incredibly skittish-looking Wanda lowered herself into the chair in front of Emma's desk, crossing one leg over the other before folding her hands in her lap. "Because for all he's supposedly been 'grooming me to take over', I've been left out of a lot of important learning experiences. Past negotiations between the Brotherhood and other organizations, for instance. Brotherhood. Hmm." Pausing, the brunette tilted her head to one side. "I wonder if I could get away with renaming it the Sisterhood? I mean, if we're going to stick a gendered name on a coed group, I at least want it to be my gender."

Exchanging looks, Emma and Jean both smiled. _'She's adorable. And those legs…'_

_'If I wasn't a telepath, I would find it hard to believe you'd made it down that far.'_

_'Yes, she does seem to be omega level when it comes to the most common superpower, doesn't she?'_ As the brunette's rambling trailed off, Emma glanced over at Wanda for a moment and winked before looking back to Jean. _'I can't see a down side to ending a feud started by two old men who are no longer relevant to the future of mutantkind. After all, if there's one common element between all the cautionary tales our time-traveling friends have told us, it's that united we stand and divided we fall.'_

That earned an audible chuckle out of Jean, causing the already nervous Wanda to jump a bit in her seat. _'Well then. Far be it from me to stand in the way of mutant advancement. Although we probably shouldn't tell her that we've slept with her half-sister until after she decides she likes us.'_ Emma winced; yes, that did have the potential to make things… awkward. "Why don't we start with our own tour of the grounds? You can see what we might have to offer to the… Sisterhood… if you choose to ally with us, or where you'd be living if you decide merging our groups is the better idea. And then maybe… how do you feel about French food?"

"Um, I like it well enough. Why?"

"Would you like to join us for dinner?"

* * *

**_December 23, 2014_ **

* * *

"See, children? Nothing as terrible as Amaranth makes it out to be." Emma sat back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest smugly as she waited for a response. As the seconds ticked by in absolute silence, her smug look began to falter, failing entirely as Amaranth and Olivia looked at each other in abject horror. "…what?"

"You slept with my mom?"

"You slept with my girlfriend's mom?"

"Ewww!"

Before Emma could try to defend herself, Wanda decided to chime in with her two - incredibly unhelpful - cents. "Amaranth? If the idea of Emma sleeping with your girlfriend's mother freaks you out, you might need to start dating outside the mansion. I'm not saying that your mother's gotten around or anything, I'm just saying that she has more notches in her bedpost than Gianna Michaels. Actually, isn't Gianna one of them, Emma? I know she was at one of our parties, but there was this amazing chocolate rum and… well, you know how I am about anything chocolate…"

Emma chuckled softly before nodding. "Ah yes, Miss Michaels. There's something to be said for a woman you can motorboat without needing to bend forward. I'm not going to lie, if that woman hadn't been a flatscan - or had invested her earnings the way certain other women I know have - you girls would have at least one more mom…"


End file.
